


The Way Forward

by aspiringwriterofamazingstories



Category: American Horror Story: Apocalypse, Labyrinth, Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: American Horror Story References, Biracial Character, Crossover, F/M, Fairies, Fantasy, Goblins, Magic, Magical, OC, Romance, Royal Drama, Royalty, crossover fanfiction, fairy tale, romantic, royal, trickery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 12:15:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17264036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aspiringwriterofamazingstories/pseuds/aspiringwriterofamazingstories
Summary: Prince of the Goblins Michael always knew his father’s heart never belonged to his mother. Instead, his father pined over a human named Sarah and watched over her daughter as if she were his own. Resentful and jealous, Michael ventures into the human realm upon hearing of Sarah’s passing to catch the attention of her beautiful daughter, but is he really doing it for his father’s attention or is there perhaps another reason he wishes to keep her in their world?





	The Way Forward

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not continue this. It depends on the feedback I get.  
> I will be taking a much needed break from writing, though. :)

Nothing Ariel’s mother said made sense anymore.  

For as long as she could remember, her mother would always tell her stories of goblins, fairies, and magical places where nothing was as it seemed. As a child, Ariel quite enjoyed the stories, but as most kids do, she began to grow out of them at a certain age. Not completely, but just enough that she didn’t believe any of the stories could possibly be real anymore. When this started to happen, her mother picked up on it and gave her space. Of course, the two remained close, but there was definitely a distance between them present that wasn’t there when she was a child.

It was only when the tumor developed in her mother’s head that she began talking of fairies and goblins once again.

“Never say the words…” she would mumble when things got really bad, “Never say them. Even if he promises you the world. Even if he promises everything you could ever want, never say the words.”

“Mom, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ariel would say tucking her mother into bed late at night. Her mother would reply with a smile. “And I hope you never do.”

It was only when she had last seen her mother at her absolute worst—completely bald, rose hue gone from her cheeks, and eyes as if they were in space—that she felt her strange words could actually mean something.  

As she sat there holding her mother’s hand in tears as she laid in the hospital bed, she began to wish.  

“I just wish…”

Her mother’s eyes widened and she squeezed her daughter’s hand. “Sweetie, don’t!”

There was an alertness in her voice that Ariel hadn’t heard in months.

“We cannot undo this. It’s not fair, but it’s the way it is. Don’t lose yourself in making wishes. What I want is for you to live your best life. If you can promise me that, I can leave peacefully and join your father knowing that you are safe from _him._ ”

Ariel’s brows furrowed in confusion. It had to be the tumor talking. Nothing else would make sense, but it the back of her mind, she asked the question, “Who is _him?_ ”

* * *

Michael had only seen glimpses of the young woman and her mother through his father’s crystals, and from the time he was a child, he hated the woman of alabaster skin and long black hair, and he hated the little girl with thick chestnut curls and light brown skin. He hated them both because his father loved them both. He loved them more than he ever decided to love him or his mother. It was only when his mother past away that the resentment he had for them extended to his father. His mother had died too young, and his father rarely, if at all, offered him any sort of comfort or even hinted at ever caring for her at all. Michael grieved alone, and the goblins were far too dense to hold any sort of conversation that could help him cope through his loss.

He was utterly alone, and all because his father spent more time watching the one named Sarah and the little girl through crystals or even traveling to their world to watch over them than he ever did with him. Did he forget he had his own child that craved his attention? The girl already had a father, so why did he feel the need to be near her?

But shortly after his own mother died, so did the little girl’s father, and when that happened, his father was even worse. He barely saw him at all after that. He made it his business to be the girl’s guardian and ensure her happiness as best as he could from a distance, while he left Michael with material luxuries that could never compare to the presence of his father.

When Michael reached the age of twenty, he had heard whispers among the goblins that his father seemed different. Quiet. More distant than usual. Michael had to roll his eyes over this. The man had always been distant, at least with him, but it didn’t take long for him to notice a strange change himself. He didn’t leave as much as he used to. Instead, he kept himself locked away. Before, he literally made himself not there, but now he wasn’t present in a different way: He now remained in their world but still chose to keep his distance.

Michael wished so much his father would let him in and open up to him. Maybe if he knew what was wrong, he could help. He could be the son he always wanted to be, and maybe make him proud for a change.

But his father always did the same when he approached. He sent him away with a simple wave of his hand as if he were annoyed by his mere presence. It hurt. It hurt him to his core, but what could he do?

It had been a while since he had spied on his father. The last time he was caught, his father grabbed him by the ear and told him how pitiful he was for doing so, but now he was a grown man, and as much as he resented him, he wasn’t afraid of him, and he was smarter now. He knew how to summon crystals, and he knew how to look through them to see what he wanted to see. So, one night after having dinner alone once again, Michael summoned a crystal from the air and willed himself to see what was troubling his father. What he saw stunned him.

There was Sarah, weaker than he could ever remember her. Her long black tresses of hair gone and the dark circles underneath her eyes stood out from just how pale the woman had become. Her arm was alarmingly frail and her fingers looked boney in the hand of the young woman who was there with her. And as fragile as Sarah had become, it was the appearance of her daughter that took him by surprise.  

She was beautiful. Almost too beautiful for him to hate as he had for his entire life. Her curls had grown longer since he last spied through one of his father’s crystals and the way the light hit her lovely brown skin almost made him question if she was really a human. He felt his chest clench in that special way when a person sees someone so stunningly beautiful that they know they are capable of making poor choices if they choose not to be careful.

_“Sweetie, don’t.”_

The sternness of her mother’s tone took him by surprise given how weak she was.

 _“We cannot undo this. It’s not fair, but it’s the way it is. Don’t lose yourself in making wishes. What I want is for you to live your best life. If you can promise me that, I can leave peacefully and join your father knowing that you are safe from_ him _.”_

His brows furrowed upon hearing this. His father was an absolute fool sulking for years after this woman who wanted not a thing to do with him. Who feared him even! Who wanted him nowhere near her daughter.

As he thought of it, an idea began to form in his mind: His father wanted Sarah, but knew he could never have her, but judging by the expression on the girl’s face when she mentioned him, she didn’t have a clue as to who she was talking about. She could easily be lured in. If he could bring her to the labyrinth, perhaps his father would appreciate him and maybe even show pride.

* * *

Ariel wished she could have thought about how nice it was to have the family together, but the funeral for her mother was filled with the same drama as any other time the family was together.  

She had always loved her grandparents on her father’s side. Upon hearing that Ariel would be living with her uncle Toby for a while until she could figure things out, her grandma whipped up all of Ariel’s favorite food in order to lessen the workload for Toby, and of course, her grandpa did his best to lighten up her mood with some really bad jokes and silly songs that made her giggle as a child. With his dark skin and charming smile, he looked so much like her late father that through her laughter, she also felt like crying. It was really her mother’s side of the family—excluding Toby—that had a way of making things worse.  

Her mother’s father really wasn’t a problem. He was actually really sweet, but her mother’s stepmother had a way of dropping casual judgments under the guise of ignorance, and her husband went along with it without challenging her behavior.

“Now, honey, don’t you think that dress is a little short for a funeral?” was the first thing the woman said upon glancing at the black dress that reached just above her knees. Her legs were covered by black nylons.

Toby took her to the side and reassured her that they would be leaving once the funeral was over.

When they arrived at the cemetery to say their final goodbyes, Ariel caught sight of a young man she had never seen before, dressed in appropriate black funeral attire with neatly cut blonde wavy hair. He stood back further from the rest of the crowd with his hands behind his back. He seemed so refined and elegant. Who was he?

“Ariel,” Toby leaned down and whispered over her shoulder, “It’s your turn.”

She turned to nod at him, but when she looked back at where the young man was standing, she saw he was no longer there.

Had she imagined him?

Shrugging it off, she picked up a handful of dirt with one hand and stood over her mother’s grave. She looked down to see the glossy casket where her mother now laid. Her eyes burned as tears slipped away from them and fell down her cheeks.

“Good-bye, Mother,” she said as she opened up her palm to let the dirt fall down.


End file.
